


His Blue Eyes

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Depression, I Will Add These As I Write, Insecure Louis, Louis Lies, M/M, Niall likes to party, Nick is a dick, No M rating needed yet but, One Night Stands, Parties, Self-Hatred, Singer Zayn, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is the flirt at the University. His roommate, Niall, always brings him along to parties, and he'll always have someone who catches his eye. He'll spend the night with them, getting them into bed with no problem at all, and then he'll leave before the person wakes up. That's how he works. That's his normal schedule, and everyone knows that. </p>
<p>Harry Styles, a new boy at the university, happens to go to a party that Louis attends. He happens to get into bed with him. And what's better than having a one night stand the first week of Uni? Nothing! And what's worse than having a one night stand the first week of Uni? Being captivated by the man you slept with. And what's even worse than that? Being rejected by that man.</p>
<p>But still, to Harry, nothing was better than having that one night stand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my other works!  
> Or at least the works I will be making in the future. I don't have anything else for now.  
> I'm going to be writing song fics, though! Just comment me a song!  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

"A party?"

"A party. And you're coming."

"I don't know, Li. 'm still trying to get used to it here, and I don't know anyone, and..."

"Harry, you're going to that party. End of discussion."

Two tall men, ages twenty and twenty one, stood in front of a dorm. The curly haired boy, Harry, was leaning against the door, his arms and ankles crossed casually. He was pouting, though, not responding to the words of the boy in front of him. Said boy was about the same height, muscular, and he was staring Harry down as an act of intimidation. It worked.

"But why, Liam?" Harry had whined, losing the staring contest that they had going, looking off to the side instead. There were a couple other people in the hall, but they looked as though they were going to their dorms, huddling close together to warm themselves. It was Autumn, the air cold at this time of night. It was already dark outside, Harry noticed, looking out the window at the end of the hall. It looked blue, but the street was illuminated with a brash orange of the street lights that were placed too close together. He could practically feel the cool air hit his skin from just looking at the scene. No one was outside, not that he could see, but there were the occasional passing cars. It seemed like a normal night, really. It was nice.

Well, it was nice until his friend spoke up.

"Niall invited me! He said that he had met a new singer, and that his voice was amazing. Both of us major in music, so I want you to come with me. It's just one party, Haz."

Soft curls bounced as Harry lowered his head in defeat. "Tomorrow, right?" He mumbled, knowing that he couldn't escape this. He shared a dorm with Liam, and he knew that the boy cared about him enough to bug him all night. He wanted Harry to find more friends and get out more, not drowning himself in class work, meditation, and running. He had only been at the University for four days, but he still seemed to be so lonely. He didn't really make any friends. Sure, he spoke to everyone he could, charming them off of their feet, but they never really contacted each other unless they were in class and it was convenient. Once Harry was inside the confines of his dorm, he was alone. each of the three nights Liam had come in during the middle of night, the dark haired boy was sitting at his desk, his phone out of sight, and just doing work from one of his classes. It was upsetting to see someone like that, so Liam was now doing his best to try and get the boy out of the dorm to meet new people.

"Tomorrow. We'll leave together. Be ready by nine. That's when it starts. Yes, I will be calling you to remind you."

Harry sighed, turning on his heel and swiping his key card, opening the door and stepping inside. He didn't bother turning on the light, just walking into the dark room and kicking his boots off to the best of his ability. Once Liam stepped in, though, the light was on, and Harry couldn't help but bend down and straighten out his shoes. It looked so strange whenever they weren't set down properly. 

"You need friends other than me, Hazza." Liam had said quietly after the door clicked closed. After stripping off their coats and scarves and everything else that helped with the cold weather, the boys walked further into the dorm. It wasn't small, definitely well-sized for a college dorm. It fit both of them easily. Other students had dorms as well, but some had their own apartments. The party happening tomorrow night would be held in one of those.

"This is a special occasion." Liam had started, Harry not replying to his earlier words.

"Oh? A college party is that special, huh?" Was the snarky mumble that came from Harry. He was gathering his pyjamas, soon changing into them. Really, they were just pyjama bottoms. He slept shirtless.

"Shush. Niall and his roommate, Louis, usually don't throw their own parties. They just like to go to other peoples'. So we have to take this opportunity while we still can. Might never happen again, you know." Liam was taking off the rest of his clothes, staying in his boxers as he threw the dirty laundry into the hamper at the side of his bed. 

"Li, stop talking about it already. I'm going, okay? Isn't that good enough?" Harry had said, still mumbling like a child who didn't get what he wanted. He was in his bed now, covering himself up to the shoulders in his thick blanket. 

Liam hadn't said anything in response, walking over to the light switch and flicking it down, the room being cast in a comforting darkness. The boy walked back to his bed and hid underneath the covers, rolling onto his side as an arm bent up and slipped under his pillow, trying to position it in a more comfortable place. Once he had stopped, it was quiet in the room. Liam could hear the soft puffs of breath that came from Harry, and he assumed that he was sleeping.

"Harry, I'm not always going to be there for you...You need some more friends." 

It was whispered, but Harry could hear it loud and clear. His previously loud breaths went quiet, and he was lost in thought until he had dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

 

**xxx**

 

_Ring, Ring, Ring, Ri-_

"Yeah?" 

Harry picked up his phone that was ringing under his pillow. It took him a moment to grab it, having been in the middle of scribbling something down in his journal. But once he did answer, he knew what was going to come. Other than his family, Liam was the only other person who knew his number. And of course, that pest would never let Harry out of the deal he had made to go to that stupid party. 

"Get ready. We're going there early to help set up."

"Great," Harry muttered, sighing heavily in exasperation. "When are we leaving?"

"As soon as I leave the store. Gona buy some Alcohol for Nialler. He was too busy setting up for the singer."

"Got it. I'll be ready when you get back." Harry slid off of his bed, going over to his closet and looking for something to wear that wasn't his comfy onesie that he had slid into once he had gotten home. 

"See ya, Haz." 

"Take your time."

"Of course."

And with that, Harry hung up, tossing his phone onto the bed and focusing and getting clothes. "Wonder if they allow onesies at college parties..." He whispered to himself, before pulling out some clothes. Simple. What he usually wore. A pair of black skinny jeans and a white button up shirt. Of course, once he put it on, he left the top few buttons undone. It was the way he always wore his shirts. Habit. He felt more free that way.

He was dressed now, looking in the mirror and attempting to tame his loose curls. His hair wasn't too long, going to just below his ears and then down to the middle of his neck in the back. He'd grow it out longer, though, not liking the way he looked when it was short. On that note, the boy sighed, walking somewhere in the dorm and pulling out a bandana. It was white with a black pattern, and since he thought that it would suit, he brushed his hair back and put it on. 

Right on cue, the door to the dorm opened, and Harry looked over to see Liam walking in, his hands in his pockets as he seemed to be looking for something. "You have a guitar, right?" He asked instead of greeting. 

"'course," Harry said anyways, going over to his bed and grabbing the cased instrument. He wasn't very good at playing, but he was trying to learn.

"Bring it, and let's go." Liam instructed, turning around and walking out, calling over his shoulder the explanation. "Niall only has one in the apartment, and one of the strings broke. He has, like, four other ones, but that kid never brings them home." Liam sounded more endeared than anything. A sign that the two were definitely friends for a while. That was nice to know. But if he thought about it, Harry knew that that had to be the case. If it wasn't, then Liam wouldn't be going to the party in the first place, and he wouldn't be forcing Harry to come along.

The two boys walked out of the building, Harry making sure to remember to bring his coat. The ride to the apartment was filled with too-quiet music and the clicking of glass bottles rolling around in the back seat. The boy didn't mind the silence, though, his mind filled with thoughts on how this party was going to go for him. Liam was his ride, so he couldn't leave without him. Maybe Niall would give him a ride? Or maybe he would be too drunk to do that...Well, it wasn't too far, and he had a coat, so he could always walk back. That was seemingly his best choice.

Harry looked up, unsure of why Liam had stopped. Then he realized that the car was parked, and that there were already outside of the apartments. Oh.

"C'mon. Niall's waiting."

And with that, Liam slid out of the car with the bags of drinks, Harry following with the guitar. They reached the door in no time at all, Liam not knocking before he opened the door, shouting, "Better have some clothes on, Nialler."

"Never have 'em off!" Is what was shouted back, and Harry could hear the soft chuckling of both the boys. He also took note of the Irish accent that laced the unseen boy's voice. 

They walked into the apartment fully after shutting the door, and Harry looked around curiously. It was simple, but it was decorated. It was matured, a college party definitely. Really, there were just long tables pushed against the wall, Liam setting up the drinks on there. There was already a large bowl of punch, and Harry watched as Liam spiked it, pouring a good amount of vodka into it.

"Ah, the guitar. Thanks, mate." 

Harry's gaze turned to the voice, and he saw a blond head pop out from a corner, his icy eyes fixed on the case that was hung over Harry's shoulder.

"Oh, right." And in one swift motion, Harry was holding the guitar out for the boy to take, and that's what he did. "Acoustic is fine?" He questioned, and the blond nodded, taking the instrument out of the case and looking over it with careful eyes. 

"This'll do great." He said with a nod, before setting it back into the case. He straightened, grinning as he held his hand out. "I'm Niall. You must be Liam's roommate?"

"Harry." The boy greeted with a smile and a nod, taking the boy's hand and giving it a firm shake. 

After that, though, Harry withdrew his hand and looked around. The thing that stood out the most was the makeshift stage on against one of the walls. It was actually well-constructed, and Harry had to wonder who made it. There was a single stand on it, and the microphone was placed there as well. 

"Ah, Louis did a good job, didn't he?" Niall's voice cut in, and the curly haired boy nearly jumped. But he didn't, and he just nodded in agreement.

"Could hardly tell that it wasn't built in." It was sort of an exaggeration, but he really did think that it was built in when he first glanced at it. Now that he was staring, though, he could see that it was clearly made by someone who didn't have the time to make it perfect. "Who's Louis again?"

"Roommate." Liam cut in, stepping up to the two others and looking around. "He still in class?"

"Yeah, for another hour."

"But that's when the party starts." 

"Says he likes it when he's fashionably late."

They chuckled at that, Liam nodding his head. "Sounds like him." He muttered quietly, before turning on his heel. "Let's finish up, then." 

Niall nodded, stepping up to the raised platform of the stage and setting the guitar down next to the mic stand. He hopped off a moment later, following Liam into another room. Harry was left scrambling after them.

 

**xxx**

 

People were staring to arrive, and Harry didn't know what to do. They all came in pairs or more, and he didn't want to just burst in and try to talk to them. That wasn't how he did things. So instead, he was sitting on the couch, staring up at the stage and admiring the performer. He had dark hair and arms laced in tattoos. He was attractive, definitely. But more than anything, his voice was heaven. It was soothing, really. There weren't a lot of people yet, so he and Niall were just there. Niall strumming the guitar quietly while the boy sang without the mic. Zayn, Harry could recall, was the singer's name. 

He sighed, though, looking around. He felt so out of place. He knew that he had a stack of papers sitting on his desk in his dorm, and he just couldn't get the itching feeling of needing to complete them out of his mind. 

He was tense, stressed, and he really didn't belong at this party.

"And here I thought I'd be fashionably late."

At the loud words, Harry's head jerked over to the door just in time to see it close. Behind a boy. A small boy, but an older boy.

"Louis!" Naill screamed in greeting, waving his arm in the air for a moment. "Thought you had class?"

"Let me out early. Nothing that a little sucking up and flirting can't do." Louis said with a casual wink, before he looked around at the people there, nodding his head. He was only a few ten minutes early, but still, he was one of the firsts to arrive. "So mellow, this party." He said wistfully, before grinning. "Good thinking, not inviting the whole school, Ni. It didn't turn out very well last time." 

"Yeah, we don't want that happening again. Landlord'll kill us." Niall smiled down at the guitar, strumming it softly.

"Buy a new guitar?" Louis asked, jumping onto the stage in a swift movement, seeming almost cat-like. 

"Nah, 's Harry's." Niall nodded to the boy sitting on the couch, and in response, Harry raised his glass.

Louis looked over to him, scanning over his body and grinning wickedly a moment later. He jumped down and walked over to the couch, and Harry could feel his gaze on him. It was weird, though, because the boy was looking everywhere that wasn't his face. Harry felt almost violated. 

Almost. 

That thought instantly left his mind when Louis was standing in front of him, a smirk playful on his lips. He was no longer looking at his body. No, Louis' eyes were locked onto Harry's, his stare neither creepy nor intruding. It was tame, but hungry at the same time.

It made Harry freeze.

All he could see were his eyes, and he drowned in how blue they were. He was sure that his own eyes were shaking, and he was scared that the other boy could see it.

Whether they were staring at each other for a few seconds or a few hours, Harry wasn't sure, but Louis had spoken up, Harry watching his lips move, but not hearing a word of what was said.

So instead of answering, he just stared at him, his face slack with his mouth hanging open a fraction. It took a moment for him to process and respond, and after a few long seconds, he shook his head. "W...what was that?" He asked quietly, having to clear his throat that had went dry. 

He knew that he probably looked like an idiot, and he was almost ashamed at how terrible his first impression was, while Louis had made his own bombastic and spontaneous, and Harry just couldn't look at him anymore. 

But he couldn't look away from that stare.

There was a laugh, angelic as it left the smaller boy's lips. He was no longer smirking, but he was grinning and smiling like a dork. He reached out, taking Harry's hand in his. "I said, Dance with me, curly!" 

And Harry had never felt anything as warm as the boy's touch. Nothing as soft as Louis' hand that was pulling him to his feet. He had never heard anything more beautiful than the boy's voice, and that thought was confirmed when Harry noticed that instead of the soft strumming of the guitar and quiet singing, there was more energy into the song that was being sang, and Harry was glad that it was louder. He was sure that Louis would hear his heart pounding in his chest if it were a different case.

And the two danced.

And they drank.

And as the night went on, they had more and more fun.

They hardly spoke, but they laughed, and they bonded with silent glances and smiles.

And Harry didn't remember much of what had happened before he was in bed, Louis kissing him hungrily and both of them undressing all too fast.

All he could remember were those blue eyes that were staring at him during the whole thing.

Those blue, blue eyes. So empty and so intense. Filled with such an empty passion, and with so much despair and so much hatred. But all through the night, Harry only saw how much joy was there, and he never once questioned it. But now, as he was laying in bed and letting Louis take control and _have him_ for the night, Harry noticed that deep in those blue eyes, there was a sadness, and Harry was so interested in it that he was completely lost. He quickly forgot about that, though, and he just sunk into the pleasure of Louis pressing his lips to Harry's, trailing kisses all the way down to his abdomen.

Louis looks up at him, and his eyes seemed to lose the lust for a moment, they lost the subtle despair, and they were just filled with concern. A silent question being asked, and all Harry could do was stare down at him, their eyes locking, and nod.

"Of course." He whispered, his voice but a ghost compared to the soft thudding of the base from the other room. But it was all Louis needed before a smirk came to his lips, and the sincerity and care in his eyes were flooded over with the previous lust.

And their night carried on that way, the act feeling so fake, but so good. Harry knew that this meant nothing, but he knew that Louis meant something, and come morning, when he would leave the house, he would never be able to get his mind off of this boy. He would never stop thinking about how easily everything is faked, and how much love swelled in the pit of his stomach when he even thought about the boy.

Once this one night stand came to an end, Harry knew that he would always cherish this boy.

This boy and his blue eyes.


	2. Chapter Two

_"Goddamn it..."_

Harry was induced with sleep, under the spell of the pleasant haze, but he heard a whisper of a voice, and it was so familiar that he was tempted to open his eyes and see who it was that was making the noise. But who would want to get up from a peaceful slumber after a good night of sex. Well, it wasn't even sex, just oral, but it didn't matter to him. Everything counted. 

_"Shit."_

That time, Harry's eyes snapped open. There was a dip in the bed that made him almost role off, and the words were hissed right in front of him. When his eyes were open, slowly adjusting to the soft light that shone through a crack of the curtains-it was still night, the light coming from a streetlamp next to the building-, he was met with a sight that made his breath catch in his throat, and he was sure that he forgot how to breath for a few seconds.

Louis was positioned in front of him, one of his hands on the edge of the bed, clutching the mattress for dear life, while his other hand was on the nightstand, keeping him balanced. He was looking at Harry, too, his eyes slightly wide as their gazes met. Louis only had a pair of boxers on, and he a shirt was hanging on his arm, slowly slipping off as Louis was beginning to lose his grip on the bed. It looked like he tripped on something, and he was just standing in an awkward position, attempting not to look like a klutz.

It didn't work, but Harry didn't focus on that, Their eyes were locked, and Harry just couldn't look away from the gaze. It had only been a few seconds before Louis made a rugged movement, his upper body falling onto the bed. He was careful not to touch Harry, for all he wanted to do was get himself balanced. That actually did work. He was standing up straight in a moment's notice, and he softly cleared his throat, averting his gaze down to the shirt that landed on the ground when he made the brash movement.

"I didn't mean to wake you, love. You should go back to sleep." His voice was hoarse and rough, and the sound made Louis clear his throat once more. Harry just kept staring at him, tilting his head in question. 

"What are you doing?"

"Was trying to get our clothes and throw them in the washer. Give you something clean to wear so you can actually leave for class in the morning. Don't think my clothes'll fit you." He explained, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair, bending down and picking up the shirt that he had dropped. It was easy to see, though, since it landed in the light from the window. Harry was unable to see any of the other articles of clothing on the ground, and he was sure that Louis couldn't either. 

"The light, Lou. Turn on the light."

"But you-"

"I'm already awake, just turn on the light for a minute." Harry instructed, and he could hardly see the nod Louis gave to him. There was fumbling, and then a noise of Louis' breath being inhaled sharply, and Harry could have sworn he heard a curse under his breath. The boy rolled his eyes, knowing that that was probably the cause for Louis cursing earlier.

Then the light was flicked on, and Harry shielded his eyes. He didn't drink too much yesterday, but Louis had. He could only imagine how bad the hangover he had was, yet he was still getting their clothes to throw in the washer. It was rather impressive, really. Must've taken a lot of will power.

"What are you staring at?" Louis spoke up, standing at the door to his room and staring back at Harry with expecting eyes. And Harry didn't even know he was staring. Oh.

"Sorry, it's just..." He paused, noticing that Louis had gathered the rest of their clothes that were thrown around the room. Harry hadn't even noticed that he moved. Really, how long had he even been staring?

"No worries. I'm turning the light off now. Go back to sleep, Harry."

And that was the first time Louis had said his name that morning, and Harry had reverted back to staring like an idiot. Even as the door opened and the light was flicked off, he just stared at the warm light that shone through the crack of the open door, as if he still saw Louis. His blood was boiling, and for some reason, he felt so embarrassed and so confused at the same time. It was just someone saying his name. He really needed to get over it. 

The boy sighed, running a hand through his hair and suddenly remembering that he had worn a bandana yesterday. Where would that be? Was Louis washing it? After a moment of serious contemplation of whether or not he should get up and search for it, he sighed, laying back down and rolling onto his side. This bed was too comfortable to leave so soon. So Harry closed his eyes, and he was lulled back to sleep by the quiet sounds of rustling and moving and clicking that came from the other room. On usual circumstances, Harry would've gotten up to see what was happening in the other room, but these weren't normal circumstances in the slightest. He was worn down, and so, so warm. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind before he fell asleep once more that night.

He remembered it being four thirty-eight, and the red numbers on the alarm clock on the night stand were etched into his mind so clearly that Harry could only see those numbers in his otherwise desolate dream.

 

**xxx**

 

The second time Harry woke up that morning, it was by the sound of a soft song that was playing on the alarm clock, gradually getting louder. It was an alarm, Harry realized, and he reached over to shut it off. Now that that distraction was gone, Harry decided to go back to sleep. Well, that was until he noticed that the clock didn't glow with the four numbers from his dream. It was seven already. His class started in an hour, and he wasn't even at his own dorm. 

"Fu-" Mid-curse, Harry threw the blankets off of himself, but he across the room from him, he saw a neatly folded stack of clothes that rested on a computer desk. There was a piece of paper folded in half on top of it, and even in the dim light of the morning, Harry could see his name written across the front of it. Simple. 

He slid off of the bed, shuddering as the cool air made contact with his skin. The blanket really was warm. He regretted getting up.

"Harry," The boy read once he was at the desk, taking the note and unfolding it. "Mind making the bed for me? The landlord always checks to make sure everything is in order after we throw a party." Harry paused, glancing over to the messy bed. Right. He could at least make it. No problem.

It only took him a minute to tidy the room up, and he was changing into his clothes in no time. Once he was fully dressed, he moved out of the room, the note tucked into his pocket. He shut the door silently, trying to listen for any noise that indicated someone else was there. He heard the shower running from somewhere on the second floor, and Harry was confused for a moment, before he remembered that this was a big apartment, and there actually was a second floor. Harry nodded to himself, stepping out from the small corridor that held the doors to Niall's room, Louis' room, and another door that was slightly ajar. He was shocked to see that the room was practically spotless, with the makeshift stage completely gone, and the tables that were pushed against the wall previously were nowhere to be seen. There were no cups lying around, and there wasn't a mess anywhere.

Harry probably stood there goggling for five minutes, and he didn't even hear the footsteps behind him, walking down the stairs. He did, however, here the door softly swing open, bouncing off the wall with a small thud. He turned around too quickly, managing to trip on his feet and topple over, falling backwards and landing on his hands that he had moved beneath his bum to brace the fall. 

As he took a moment to process the pain that buzzed through his arms, there was a chuckle that came from above him. He looked up, seeing a familiar blond head.

"Hiya, Harry."

"Niall." Harry breathed out in greeting, "Hi."

The elder of the two had his hair matted down by the water, looking brown more than blond now. His quiff was now against his forehead, and water was coming off in droplets, streaming down his face as he tilted his head down to look at the boy who was scrambling to get off of the floor. Niall also only had jeans on, which was fine, but it looked like it would be cold.

"Louis told me that you'd need a ride to class in a little while. I'll be ready in a good thirty minutes, so you can just make yourself at home. Help yourself to some tea. Louis probably made some for you before he left." He mumbled, turning around and waving his hand over his shoulder as he walked into the corridor and into his room. 

"Wh...What?" Harry said after him, only hearing a lighthearted laugh and a door shut after it. The curly haired boy was left standing, rather flustered. It had taken him too long to get to his feet after falling, and he was taking _way too long_ trying to process everything that Niall had said.

"Right, right..." He had finally said after a moment of just standing and staring. This is why he wasn't suited for college life filled with parties and one night stands. He was bad at comprehending different situations when he just woke up. His hangover was in the back of his mind, a small ache taking its place instead. He sighed, walking over to the small divide that separated the living room and kitchen, and he walked passed, looking into the kitchen. It was the size of his dorm, he was sure. It was so big, and Harry loved it. He wish that he had his own kitchen. He was taking culinary classes as well as music, photography, and government. Really, he was taking a lot of different classes, along with having a part time job at a bakery. He only worked there on days he didn't have class, though, and it was only for five to eight hours a shift.

There was a kettle set on the counter, a small huff of steam still floating around it as Harry walked up. To his delight, there was a glass placed next to it already, and all Harry needed to do was pour the liquid. Once he had his tea, he added some honey and sugar, but only a tad. He walked back into the living room after, sighing as he plopped down on the couch that he occupied at the start of the party the day before. Harry could recall so much of yesterday night, but he really couldn't remember any of it happening. No matter how much he repeated the possibility in his mind, it just seemed as though it was all a haze, like a dream. But he remembered waking up in the middle of the night, sharing a quiet laugh with Louis. He remembered waking up to an alarm that was set for him, and finding a note on his clean clothes. He remembered walking into the kitchen just a moment ago and getting a cup of tea. And more than anything, he remembered the piercing blue of Louis' eyes that were on him all last night, and he could name every emotion that he saw flash through them.

Nothing was more clear to him then those hazed over eyes, and he could swear on his life that they were real, that everything that happened yesterday, all of his fuzzy memories and all of his murky thoughts were real. If they weren't, then that would mean that those eyes weren't real, and that was something that Harry didn't want to imagine. 

The boy cleared his mind, though, and stared in front of him. Instead of the stage that he had seen yesterday, he saw through a window, the blinds pulled to the side to reveal the outside world. It was facing towards the street, and he had a perfect view of a bus stop across the street. He grinned, chuckling to himself before taking a sip of the too-bitter tea. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually laughed at something that wasn't just an affect of the alcohol that ran in his body. It really had been a while, even though it was such a lame reason to laugh.

Well, Harry always had such lame jokes. It was like him to laugh at something so simple.

"Ready to go?"

Harry looked up, seeing Niall walking in from the doorway. His quiff was back up, and his hair was most definitely dry. He looked good, Harry would admit, but in a _completely platonic way_ , may he remind you.

"Yeah, 'm ready."

And Harry stood up, setting down his glass on the table in front of him. It was only half empty, and he kind of felt bad for just setting it there when everything else in the apartment was so clean. Niall seemed to notice his small distress, and he rolled his eyes. 

"You have to go now, right? I'll pick it up when I get back."

And with that as motivation, Harry quickly slipped his boots on and grabbed his coat, throwing it over his shoulders as he walked out of the building, Niall was laughing as he followed him out, locking the apartment after exiting.

Niall unlocked his car, and the two hopped in. Really, that felt less awkward than any previous encounter he had with the blond that morning. He was surprised, since he actually got into the car without question. And even as he was sitting there, Niall pulling out of the parking lot, Harry didn't question the boy in the slightest. Niall was like an open book, and Harry could tell that he was really just a happy, fun guy who liked to party. And if Liam looked at him so highly, then that must mean that he's a good guy, too.

"So...You and Louis were pretty close last night." Niall said casually, seeming to want to strike up a conversation, but with that? Really? Harry could feel his cheeks starting to burn.

"Yeah. One night stand." Harry clarified, and Niall laughed again. 

"Of course. There's no other thing when it comes to Louis. Hook up, and then leave before the other person wakes up. That's his reputation, after all." Niall had his eyes fixed on the road, and this early in the morning, there was quite a bit of traffic. Mostly business people trying not to be late for meetings, Harry assumed with a smile. 

"Is that why he was gone before I woke up?" Harry was surprised at how flat his voice sounded. He wasn't sure why, but he blamed it on his drowsiness and his headache.

Niall was also surprised, it seemed, as he looked over at Harry with a raised eyebrow, concern clear in his eyes. And the boy nodded in response, wordlessly, before Niall sighed, shaking his head. "Louis will sleep in any chance he gets. But he deals with hangovers better than anyone I know. Anyways, he was gone today 'cause he had work at seven thirty. Heard him running around in the middle of the night, though. Like he always does after a party." He mumbled the last part, an affectionate smile lining his lips. 

"Always...? Why?" Harry wanted to know why, but he was also afraid of the answer. Was it anything bad? But would Niall be looking like that if it was something bad?

"To clean up the house, of course. I'm not gona do it, that's for sure. And the landlord'll murder us in cold blood if he sees that our apartment was trashed. Louis always cleans up the mess."

Harry was definitely overthinking it. Did that mean that Louis was the reason the house was so clean in the morning? Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if Louis even got back in bed after he first got up. If he didn't, then...

"Is he a clean freak?"

At the sudden question, Niall snorted, rolling his eyes. "Hardly. He's probably the messiest one out of everyone at every party we ever go to. He just has trouble sleeping sometimes, so he deals with it by doing some things that keeps him busy."

"Why does he have trouble sleeping?" He couldn't help but ask, even though his mind was still on a thousand different things that involved the boy he had met last night. He was just so interested, that even though he hadn't processed everything he was taking in yet, he still wanted to know more. Besides, he would have a lot of time to think things over later that day, while he was in class, or maybe when he got home and had nothing to do besides his work.

"You'll have to ask him that if you want to know." Niall said with a grin, but his eyes didn't match the joy. His eyes flashed with something that Harry didn't have enough time to label, and then he cleared his throat, glancing over to the curly haired boy with interest. "Ever had a one night stand before, Harry?"

Back to the personal questions. Harry sighed, knowing that he shouldn't complain. He was really asking a lot about Louis that was probably classified as personal, so a simple question like this one was no hassle. "Never."

"You a virgin?"

"Nope..."

"Then you probably don't know this, but one night stands really are just for one night. Why're you so interested in Lou? Was sex with him that good?"

And Harry couldn't help but flush at the question, and he averted his gaze to out the window. "Actually, can hardly remember last night and how good he may have been." He admitted sheepishly, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared out the window at the cars that were stuck in the same traffic as them. He hated driving to class on busy mornings. Or any morning, really.

"Really?" Niall sounded incredulous, like he just couldn't believe it for a moment, and he was half convinced that Harry was lying to him. But he composed himself a moment later, shrugging. "Then why?" He asked again, referring back to his last question.

The answer Harry wanted to give was the answer that he knew made no sense at all, so he kept silent the rest of the way to the class. Niall didn't pry, for he knew that he probably wouldn't get anywhere with it. So they rode in silence, and they were both okay with that. It wasn't awkward in any way, but it did seem rather boring. It was fixed, though, when the blond had started whistling quietly, then singing a quiet song to himself. As Harry relaxed at the sound, Niall had gotten slightly louder, and the car was filled with the warm vocals of the Irish boy.

Once they arrived at the university, Harry nodded in thanks, stepping out of the car. Before he could shut the door, though, he made sure to shout to Niall his answer to the question he had asked a few minutes ago. "His eyes!

"Just...his blue eyes."

 

**xxx**

 

The day passed by quickly, and Harry was in his dorm, snuggled up in his blankets while wearing his onesie in no time. He was hugging the blankets in a bundle, his eyes closed as he just went through everything that had happened that day and the night before. Niall had called him during class, and after Harry tried to guess how he had gotten his number, Niall was just laughing his head off. It was not the most pleasant situation to be in while a teacher was giving a lecture about breath control and the diaphragm. The professor scolded him after the class had ended, and he could hear Liam snickering behind him as it happened. Then it all pieced together, and Harry went through the rest of the day giving his roommate the silent treatment for not telling him that he gave Niall his number.

But he and Niall had texted throughout the day, and Harry found out a lot more about Louis.

He found out that he was really close to his sister, Lottie, and his mother. He basically grew up in a household of females, and so he was rather feminine in his personality. Sassy, that is, according to Niall. But he loved football- _soccer_. He found out that that was how he and Niall originally met, and they had bonded right off the bat, and moved in together after a year. Louis was twenty two, and Niall was a year younger. Liam's age. The two of them both major in music, but the time of their classes never seem to match up with his own and Liam's. Quite unfortunate, Harry concluded.

He also found out that Louis and Liam were extremely close, and Louis was able to find out a lot about Harry just by asking the boy. Louis was the one who set the alarm clock to make sure that Harry was awake. He was the one who washed his clothes and made him tea, and he was the one who so thoughtfully dropped a hungover Liam off at his dorm in the morning on his way to work, having said that his job was 'in walking distance, so it'd be fine.' 

And after learning all of that, Harry was confused as to how he wasn't trying to get Louis' number right then and there. But he just let that thought slide. They'd talk later. 

Harry also thought about how Niall said that Louis was always gone before his partner-for-the-night woke up. He found out why that was the case. It was because Louis cared too much about the other person to actually stay, and Louis didn't want attachments to anyone he slept with. Harry seemed to be crushing on this boy after finding out more about him, and he figured that a lot of people would be smitten if they knew how selfless Louis was. If they knew the small things he did, and if they knew about...

"His blue eyes."

The words were breathed out in a sigh, and he closed his eyes instantly after he had said them. What a weirdo he was.

But he didn't really care about that. He didn't care how weird it was or how strange it sounded, but Harry really loved Louis' eyes. The deep blue that Harry could get lost in so easily. The sad, desolate blue that seemed to stare into Harry's soul all throughout the night before. He was in love with those eyes, and all he wanted to do was stare into them and pick out every emotion that he could identify, and he wanted to be given an explanation on why his eyes were that way. He wanted to know everything about the boy.

Everything about him and his blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments, bookmarks, or kudos would be well-appreciated! Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, bookmarks, and kudos are all appreciated!

It had been three days since the night of the party, and Harry was already itching to go over to the apartment again. Liam thought that it was painfully obvious, and he kept saying that if he went over in the state that he was in, he'd only end up embarrassing himself. Harry believed him, of course, because it was most likely true. So the boy stuck to just texting Niall, and occasionally talking on the phone with him. He and the blond had actually grown quite close. Liam was relieved to hear so, but he was getting sick of Harry always asking if he could borrow his car to drive over there. It had been three days since he got his number, why was he so eager?

But this time, Niall made a point in calling Liam, and telling him to pass the phone to Harry. 

The two boys, Harry and Liam, were in their dorm, and they were sitting by the table in the middle of the room. Liam was on the couch, watching T.V. with a barely-there interest, and Harry sat criss-crossed on the ground, working on some homework that he had to do for government. It was an important assignment, apparently, because he turned off his phone and threw it onto his bed, not wanting anything else to distract him. Liam had somehow convinced him to sit at the table instead of his desk, and there they were, sitting together. Sort of.

But then Niall called Liam, and begrudgingly after answering, Liam nudged Harry with his foot, getting his attention. The boy looked at him with a slight annoyance, before he saw the phone. "Who?" He asked simply, taking it and holding it to his ear.

"Guess," Was what Liam said when he leaned back into the couch, changing the channel on the T.V. to something more interesting. Harry Potter was on. Nice. He didn't bother to think of which one it was, so he just stared, able to recall which scene it was on anyways. He's seen this one a couple times before.

Harry, on the other hand, stayed quiet as he listened to the boy on the other end of the phone.

"Haz! I finally bought some guitar strings, so you can go and get your guitar whenever you want to."

There was a pause, and Harry could hear a mumbled, "One second, please," come from Niall, and he was almost positive that he had set the phone down on a counter or something. Was he at the store? A small, "thank you," later, and Harry nodded at his suspensions. But Niall was back to talking, and the curly-haired boy listened intently.

"So you can just head to the apartment and pick it up. It's in my bedroom on a stand, and the case should be back in the living room by the couch. The spare key is in the birdhouse outside of one of the windows. Okay?"

"Birdhouse?" Harry finally spoke, his eyebrows knitting together. He had noticed the birdhouse before, but...why would they keep the key there?

"Yeah, 's Louis' idea, really, and it's been great. There actually are birds that go in there, but we have the key in a spot against the wood, and- I  have to get going, Haz! I don't think Lou will be there, either, so just use the key and let yourself in." He said hastily, and there was a distant sound of a horn honking, and Niall seemed to have pressed the phone into his chest as he shouted at someone to 'hold the fuck on.'

"Sorry, Haz. I'll text you later, yeah?"

"Bye, Niall."

And they both hung up, Harry setting the phone behind him and onto the couch. "Liam, need to borrow your car for real this time. Gotta pick up my guitar later." He tapped his pencil on the paper, before starting to scribble something inside one of the blank spaces. "Last page. Just have to finish." And so the boy finished his paper in the next twenty minutes, having seemed to use up every space that he could on the paper. Liam didn't even want to think about all of the different things that students taking government had to do. Harry seemed to have a 'really important' project or paper due every day, and he felt bad for the boy.

"Don't wreck," Liam piped quietly, watching as Harry grabbed Liam's keys from off the table and set out to change into some actual clothes. He Just threw on some joggers and a loose T-shirt. Anything was better than just the pair of boxers he was wearing previously. His onesie was in the wash.

"How am I gona wreck during a fifteen minute drive?" Harry scoffed as he threw on some shoes and a jacket. He was pretty sure that they were Liam's shoes, though. They fit, so he really didn't care.

"'s dark." Liam commented, before Harry rolled his eyes and slipped out of the dorm with a small, "I'll be right back."

And before Liam could ask if he had his phone, he was already out of the building, going to Liam's car and sliding inside. Short drive, Harry had concluded when he felt as though he arrived in five minutes. He got there, and just as Niall had said, there was a key inside the unfinished birdhouse. The roof wasn't screwed on, and Harry wondered how it hadn't fallen off yet. Excusing the thought, the boy unlocked the door, silently entering the house and looking around at the familiar room. He took his shoes off, seeing that the house was still relatively clean, and he didn't want to dirty the floor. He wasn't sure what kind of things Liam had walked through when he had worn these shoes last.

Still as quiet as before, he walked around, spotting the guitar case on the couch, opened. Okay, so that's there. Now for the actual guitar... Harry walked to the corridor, his feet careful as to not disturb anything else going on. Which was nothing, but you could never be too cautious in someone else's house. But he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden sound of a loud crash. Turning on his heel, he burst into the room where it came from- Louis' room.

The door was already cracked open, but Harry pushed it open with so much force it banged against the wall, bouncing back and having to be pushed open a second time. The boy froze, trying to take in the sight in front of him.

Louis was standing in front of him, facing a mirror, but his head was now turned to look at Harry. His right hand was raised, bent at the elbow as he held it in front of him. Streams of dark crimson was slowly moving down his wrist and to his arm, and along his knuckles and fingers, the color was smeared. Harry was able to see where his skin was split open. There were three small gashes, blood still coming out. His hand wasn't clenched, but it looked as though he wanted to change that, twitching closer to making a fist, before undoing the movement, and repeating that over and over again. It looked involuntary, though, so Harry looked away from it after a moment of staring. His eyes shot to the ground next, and he could see glass shards scattered on the floor, droplets of blood now falling from Louis' elbow and onto the pieces. Looking at the mirror - or what was left of it - Harry noted that half of it was no longer there, but instead on the floor, and the other half had quite the plethora of cracks through it. Louis definitely punched the mirror pretty hard.

That wasn't what shocked Harry the most, though, because as soon as he pieced that together, he was looking back at Louis' face, and his expression caught the boy off guard. _His eyes_. His pupils were contracted, and Harry could feel how the small black beads bore into his own eyes. The blue of his irises seemed so hazed, and they looked grey now, dark. He seemed infuriated, and Harry could feel his legs go weak, and he was overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting to rush over and take Louis in his arms and tell him to calm down. 

Louis didn't let him, though.

His gaze was pinning him to his place, and after what seemed like an eternity of just _staring_ , Louis opened his mouth to speak. 

"Harry." He kept his eyes on Harry, unwavering as he greeted the boy. His voice was so much deeper than Harry remembered, and it was so raspy, making the younger boy shudder. It was scary, but for all the wrong reasons. Harry wasn't afraid of Louis, he was afraid that Louis wasn't okay. "What're you doing here?"

"Never mind that," Harry shot in before his mind could process what he was saying. _"What are you doing?"_ And finally, he lifted his feet from his spot on the ground, and he moved towards Louis, reaching a hand out to hold his wrist. Louis moved too quickly, though, pulling away and turning around, not even trying to avoid stepping on the shards. What was this kid doing? Harry could already see him wincing in pain, and he watched as more blood came from his foot and onto the ground. It didn't look like much, though, which relieved Harry slightly. 

Louis didn't answer immediately, sitting on his bed first, then lifting his leg up and crossing it over his knee so that he was able to see the bottom of his foot if he bent over. He began dusting off the small shards off glass from his foot with his left hand, and Harry noted that the foot he was cleaning off had no cuts, just a couple small indents from where the glass stuck to him. Harry couldn't see the bottom of Louis' other foot, though, for when he lifted it up, it was facing away from the boy.

"I punched the mirror. Funny, actually. Was aiming for the wall, just missed." He said, trying to add humor to his otherwise regulated voice. He had cleared it from earlier, and now he sounded relatively close to what Harry remembered. But it just sounded so forced, and Harry couldn't let that slip. He did, however, let the terrible lie go passed him.

"You were angry?" Harry asked, and suddenly, he was moving out of the room, through the apartment and to the bathroom, grabbing the first towel he saw and running it under hot water, wringing it out, making sure it was still warm and damp before moving back to Louis' room. The boy was still sitting on his bed, but his bloodied hand was resting on his thigh, his other propping him up on the bed, resting behind him on the mattress. 

Harry walked over, making sure to avoid the glass, before kneeling down in front of Louis, reaching out and taking his right hand. Louis didn't pull away this time. His eyes were closed, though, and Harry assumed it was because he needed to calm down.

Harry waited, taking the towel and cleaning up the blood from the boy's arm first, traveling up to his wrist, making sure to clean up the smeared mess of blood before he went onto his hand, drying each place with the other end of the towel. He was slightly surprised to hear Louis speak, but he stayed silent, waiting for Louis to unravel the situation for him.

"A few minutes ago...I got a call from someone called Nick. Nick Grimshaw." The boy let out a small sigh, running his left hand over his face before he moved the messy fringe from his face. "And for some unknown goddamn reason, he hates...my sister, Lottie. He just hates her, and he isn't very keen of me either. But he called me, and just started insulting Lottie. Said that she was one of the most unattractive people that he had the misfortune to meet. Said that 'er voice was absolutely horrid, and just kept hitting all of her insecurities. So it pissed me off, 'f course. He doesn't have to be so damn rude to her." He was speaking through clenched teeth now, and Harry had to make the boy grip the towel in order to keep him from clenching his fist. 

"He didn't have to be such a dick about it. He knows how much those things hurt. I swear, sometimes he just wants to see how far I'll let him take it."

Harry had wiped off most of the blood, and he was now holding it to the three small gashes on Louis' knuckles. "Where's the antibiotics, Louis? Need to disinfect this. And the bandages?" Harry's voice was soft, and he made sure to keep it quiet, as to not startle the boy at all. Luckily, Louis answered him, but not without letting out a sigh first.

"The upstairs bathroom...in the cupboard under the sink." 

Harry nodded, making sure to have Louis push down on the towel that covered the small wounds. The boy left, heading out the door and to the staircase that was hidden behind the door in the middle of the corridor. He went up the stairs and had to check a couple different rooms before he found the bathroom. It was his first time going upstairs, and he didn't know where anything was. He assumed that he'd have plenty of time to look around later, though, so he made a point to just grab what he needed, before he went back downstairs and into Louis' room. 

The older boy was still sitting on the bed, wiping off one of his feet with the towel, though he still had it wrapped around his hand. 

"Here, let me." Harry volunteered, walking back over and kneeling down like he had before, and after a few minutes of silence and fixing up the wounds, Harry was back on his feet, admiring his handiwork for a moment. 

"You never answered me, you know." Louis spoke up, and he leaned back onto his bed, laying half of his body down while his legs dangled off of the bed. 

Harry was now wiping off his own hands with a small section of the towel that was clean, and he raised his gaze to the boy to question him. "Excuse me?"

"My question. You never answered." And after Harry stayed silent for a few more seconds, Louis finally asked the same question he did when Harry had first arrived. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," Harry spluttered, before clearing his throat and sitting on the ground, carefully gathering the large shards of glass and setting them inside the wet towel. "I came to get my guitar. Niall said that he can replace the broken string, so I can take it back. I don't think he was expecting you to be home, though..."

"Just got home from a party before you came." Louis offered, not moving from the place on the bed.

Harry could only nod, and he finished gathering the shards, being able to wipe the rest up with the towel as well. He would probably end up throwing that towel away. It got pretty dirty. He stood up and took the mirror off of the wall, carrying it out of the room and making sure not to drop anymore glass on the ground. He made his way outside and threw the mirror and the towel into the dumpster. He was back inside the house in a minute, and he went back to Louis' room to check up on him one last time. 

The boy was in the same position as before, and Harry decided to let him rest. "I think I'll get going, now." And Louis nodded wordlessly, keeping his eye closed. "Bye, Louis. Take care of yourself, yeah?" And with another nod from Louis, Harry turned on his heel and was about to make his way out of the room, but Louis' voice stopped him. 

"Harry."

It was only his name, but Harry felt compelled to stop in his tracks, turning to give the boy his full attention.

And he was glad he did.

Louis had finally shifted so that he was looking towards Harry, and their eyes met. The hazy grey from before was now a soft, icy blue, and Harry got lost inside them, trying to explore all of the bare emotions that he could see. Louis looked sad. So, so sad, and Harry hated it.

"Harry," Louis repeated, not tearing his eyes away from the other boy's. "Thank you...thanks for...everything..." He said, nodding his head towards where the mirror used to be, but he had somehow managed to keep eye contact the entire time. Harry was definitely memorized. _Infatuated_.

"You're welcome."

And just before Harry was about to break eye contact, Louis got to his feet, walking over to his desk and pulling out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down some numbers and folding the paper neatly, handing it to Harry. "Call me sometime." Was all he said, before he flashed the most beautiful smile Harry had ever seen, and closed the bedroom door. 

The curly haired boy, standing right outside of the room, seemed frozen to his place. The paper was in his hand, and he held it so tightly that he was sure it would break if it wasn't a simple piece of paper. It took a proper minute of gathering his thoughts, but once he did, the emerald eyed boy turned around and went to Niall's room, grabbing the guitar, before heading out, setting it in the case that was on the couch, before heading out of the apartment, making sure to lock the door and put the key back before he got into Liam's car again. 

He was glad that he was smart enough to stay there for a moment, calming himself down, because if he didn't, he was sure that he'd crash from how distracted he was. What had just happened? Louis had given him his number after Harry helped him clean up the mess he made from punching a mirror. Why did he punch a mirror to begin with again? Oh, right. Lottie and a guy called Nick, or something. Liam probably knew who Nick was, considering how close he was with Louis. He'd ask Liam about it. Yeah.

And so he drove back to his dorm, safely making it home in a matter of minutes. 

When he walked through the door, though, he wasn't really expecting to see Liam in such a panic.

"Finally! Where have you been? You were gone for over an hour!" Harry walked in, kicking off Liam's shoes, closing the door, and locking it. He walked the rest of the way in, setting the guitar case down beside his bed and tossing the keys to Liam's car onto the table. 

"Calm down, Li. Louis was home, and I happened to indulge him for a little."

And at that, Liam's panic disappeared, and he grinned. "Indulged him, huh? Never really heard of someone having a two-night stand." 

"Buzz off. We didn't have sex." Harry said, though his voice showed how lightly he had taken the statement, and they were both laughing softly now. But after it died down, and Harry sat down on his bed, stripping off his shirt, he looked at Liam with a little more focus.

"Hey, Li...Do you know who Nick Grimshaw is?"

Harry could see his roommate visibly tense, and it slightly surprised him.

"Did Louis mention him?"

"So...you do know him?"

Liam nodded, and Harry was kept on his toes, having so many questions that he wanted to ask. "Do you know why he hates Lottie so much? Did they used to date or something?" He was curious, and although it was none of his business, he just wanted to know. He wanted to find a way to comfort Louis if this had ever happened again. But upon seeing Liam's reaction, he realized that he had asked the wrong questions.

"What are you talking about? Lottie and Nick aren't on bad terms or anything. It's Louis who he hates."

Saying Harry was confused was an understatement, and Liam sighed, knowing that he had to explain. "Tell me what happened, and I'll give you the lowdown."

And so Harry spent another ten minutes reliving the night, telling Liam everything that had happened, but not giving any specifics. Really, all he said was that Louis was mad at Nick, and then he went on explaining why. Liam didn't need to know that Harry had to throw away a perfectly broken mirror.

"Christ." Liam cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "I'll let Niall know. He'll take care of Louis. Don't worry." And Liam had pulled out his phone, dialing his friend's number, before he waited, and Harry listened to the one-sided conversation once he had picked up.

'Yeah, it's me, Ni."

"Hi, hi...well, you know, Harry just came back from your place, and apparently Lou was home."

"Actually, it wasn't so great...turns out, Nick got to him again. Appearance, voice, everything. He was pretty upset."

"Lied to Harry, saying that it was Lottie who was insulted, but we all know that those two are on pretty good terms...yeah, sorry, Ni. Didn't mean to interrupt your clubbing."

"Okay, got it. Thanks...You're welcome. Just...make sure that he doesn't do anything stupid. Call me later, okay? Take care of him, too."

And Harry really could see how Liam was the daddy in the small group, taking care of the others and making sure they were all okay Once Liam had hung up, Harry tilted his head in curiosity and concern, and Liam began to explain for him, not going into specifics like Harry had wanted, but he gave him enough to know what was going on.

"Louis hates Nick, and Nick hates Louis. Nick always knows exactly what to say to rub Louis the wrong way. Whether it's something about how he sounds, how he looks, or who he sleeps with...But he'll never mention Lottie or any of Louis' family. It's always about Louis. It's always to make him mad, or upset, or...anything to get a reaction out of him. Nick just loves putting the kid through a rough time, and Louis never knows what to say to retaliate. Not to him. Anyone else and Lou's set; his sass can beat anyone's, no doubt. And if he didn't take Nick so seriously, I'm sure he could just brush him off as well...but he doesn't. He takes things personally if it comes from Nick, and he'll just get really mad...He hates it when people cry; he doesn't know how to comfort anyone, so he hates it. And because he hates it, he won't do it himself, so he'll just be angry instead, and he'll take it out on anything. Nick and Louis...really don't have the best relationship."

Harry was regretting leaving Louis alone, now, and he wanted to be by the boy's side, reassuring him and telling him that every little thing about him was flawless, and that nothing should ever change about him. But he couldn't, and he knew that Niall would be the one to do that tonight. 

So without anything more to say, Harry got under his covers and buried himself into the warmth of the blankets. There, he'd lay all night, thinking about Louis and the miserable look in his sad, angry blue eyes.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Sorry I took so long to update! I had to go on a trip to California, and I didn't bring my laptop with me! But I'm back in the running, so don't you worry!

Harry couldn't sleep at all that night. Instead, he just laid in his bed, his mind stuck on Louis. Liam was kind enough to turn off the T.V. and leave simple silence in the room, just the sounds of soft rustling coming from him whenever he shifted on his bed. Harry was pretty sure that Liam was reading for an hour before actually settling into his bed as well, dozing off in a matter of minutes after his head hit the pillow. Even an hour after Liam had fallen asleep, though, Harry was wide awake.

He wanted to call Louis and make sure that he was okay. He wanted to drive back over there and hug him and apologize for leaving him to begin with. He wanted to see the boy smile, all of the pain and sadness in his eyes washed away. He wanted to make Louis forget about all the hurtful things that Nick had said to him. He wanted Louis to be happy.

And he didn't know how, but now he had his phone to his ear, listening to the rings on the other end. A folded paper was in his hands, and Harry didn't even remember typing the numbers into his phone. He wanted to hang up. He wanted to just go to sleep and pretend that he didn't just possibly make one of the biggest mistakes in his life, but before he could, his heart stopped. 

"Hello?"

Louis actually answered the phone. It was around two in the morning. Why the hell would Louis pick up his phone in the middle of the night? What if it was some creep calling? Harry didn't realize how long his shock lasted until he heard a voice on the other end, sleepy and deeper than what Harry recalled.

"Sorry, but if you aren't there, I think I'm going back to sleep..."

"O-oh, did I wake you?"

Harry couldn't help but respond too quickly.

"...Harry?"

"Yeah...Sorry that I called in the middle of the night. I don't know why I did. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. Since, well, you know. Like, I'm sure you don't want to talk about it again, since Niall most likely helped you out, but...I mean, I wasn't sure whether or not-"

"Harry."

"Right." The boy's cheeks flushed, and he instantly went quiet, just thinking for a moment. Louis sounded good. Tired more than anything, but better than before. Or maybe it was just that everything was masked with his drowsiness...This is why Harry liked talking in person rather than calling. But it was two in the morning, so it was the only option he had. On top of that, he needed to make sure that he was quiet enough to not wake Liam.

"Louis...I'm sure you know this, but Liam told me about you and Nick...Kind of. He told me that you don't have the greatest relationship, and..."

"Harry, I'm really tired right now...Can you call me back tomorrow? Maybe even come over? We can talk over tea if you'd like."

Louis didn't sound very forceful at all, and he didn't sigh like Harry had expected him to. It was a genuine request, and Harry was glad to oblige.

"Of course...I'm sorry for waking you, Louis. Sweet dreams."

"Good night, Harry. Make sure to get some sleep, too."

"Right...Good night."

"G'night."

And with that, Harry pulled his phone back, staring at the screen for four whole seconds before being the first to hang up. He felt guilty for waking the other up, but it was weird. It was as if Louis didn't mind it at all...It was as if he wasn't woken up, like he wasn't asleep before he answered...But that was probably just Harry being Harry and over-analyzing everything. And in his opinion, that wasn't what needed to be analyzed.

_Why hadn't Louis hung up sooner?_

_Actually, Louis wasn't the one who hung up; I was. Did Louis want to say something? Did he not want me to hang up? Was he afraid of hanging up because he'd be left alone again? Did he want to keep talking to me, just not about what happened before? Could he not fall asleep, and he just wanted someone to talk to him until he did fall asleep? Did he-_

Before that thought could finish, Harry's phone vibrated softly for a moment, before stilling. A text message. 

Harry looked at the message an instant later, and it didn't take him long to recognize the number as Louis'. Along with the number, the boy left a signature as well.

**_I don't have any classes tomorrow, so I was hoping to sleep in. I'll most likely be up by ten, though_ **

**_Lou_ **

Harry wasn't sure whether to reply or not, just let him sleep for now, but after a moment of thought, he was tapping away at his screen. He pressed send before he even processed what he typed.

**_I have work at seven in the morning to two in the afternoon. I work at the bakery near your apartments, actually. Maybe I could just come over when I get off?_ **

**_H._ **

He was left staring at his screen, waiting in anticipation for the boy to reply. He wanted Louis to get a good night's rest, but he also wanted to keep talking to him. Was that too selfish of him? All he wanted was someone to talk him to sleep...or rather, all he wanted was to talk Louis to sleep, but details weren't important.

Before the short buzz even stopped, Harry was looking at the new message.

**_Sounds good. I'll actually pick you up. Li said that you didn't have a car_ **

So that meant that he had asked Liam about him, right? Or did he just come up in a random conversation...Well, Harry wasn't about to ask.

**_All right. Thanks. I'll see you then?_ **

**_H._ **

**_Yeah_ **

And after receiving that text a moment later, Harry wasn't sure whether or not he should reply. He figured that the boy wanted sleep, so he chose against replying with a short, pointless message. Louis wouldn't appreciate it, he concluded after about three minutes of thinking. And for some reason, that only upset him. He didn't mind it, though, just sighing as he tucked his phone underneath his pillow. He rolled onto his side, closing his eyes as he prepared himself to actually fall asleep. Knowing that he would talk to Louis after work was a relief, and he just wanted the time between to pass quickly.

Right when Harry was about to fall asleep, though, his phone buzzed softly. A text. Harry didn't hesitate to pull his phone out from hiding and open up the message. It was short, but two more came in right after the other.

**_Hey_ **

**_Are you still awake?_ **

**_Can I call you?_ **

The reply Harry sent was quick, and he didn't even think as he typed it, not even worrying about how strange it may have come off. At least, not until after he sent it.

**_You can call me anytime, Louis. I'll answer._ **

Now, Harry was freaking out, afraid that he scared Louis off. That didn't sound too weird, did it? Was it creepy? Was he being too eager? _Fuck._

So, of course, Harry began to type out an apology for his desperate-girlfriend-from-the-sixth-grade text. Before he could send it, though, a call was coming in, and it took two rings before Harry could process that he needed to answer. And he did, holding the phone to his ear a split second later.

"Louis?"

_"Harry- Hi."_

"Hi."

Harry wasn't sure what to do. He felt as though his mouth would go dry if he tried talking, and that if he even mentioned the strange text, his face would heat up so much that Louis would be able to feel the flush of his cheeks through the phone. He couldn't leave the boy without an explanation, though, so he had to give one. Even if Harry didn't know the reason he said that himself, he had to say something, right?

Opening his mouth to say something, Harry was cut off before he could even make a sound.

_"You answered...like you said you would. Thanks, Harold."_

"Of course I answered." The curly-haired boy reassured, before hastily inquiring, "Why wouldn't I?"

_"The first time you called, I do believe I told you to hang up. Thought you'd want to stop talking to me for the night."_

And Harry suddenly forgot all the embarrassment that his text had caused him, and he started thinking about how reassuring it may have been to Louis, who had his insecurities kicked in only a few hours earlier that day. Louis needed that, as sappy as it may have sounded. He needed someone who was there for him, and even though he wasn't well acquainted with Harry yet, the boy welcomed the thought of Harry being there for him. That alone was enough to make Harry's heart flutter.

_Wait._

_What?_

"I was the first to call you. Of course I actually want to keep talking to you...but I don't really like the idea of waking Liam up..." The boy glanced across the room to his dorm-mate, sighing softly. Maybe they should get a cheap apartment so they could at least sleep in different rooms. Although the dorms were conveniently close to both Harry and Liam's work places. The dorm would have to do for now.

_"Liam is a heavy sleeper...I don't think you'll have to worry about him waking. But...Are you sure you don't mind me calling?"_

"Lou, no worries...Is there a reason you wanted to talk, though?" Harry hated how Louis sounded so uncertain and afraid, almost as if he was just awaiting rejection.

_"Oh, yeah...I, uh...Liam told me that you were a major in music with him. He also said that you were a pretty good singer...and I was just wondering...since, you know, I have a little trouble sleeping sometimes. Can't get comfortable in me own bed...I was wondering if you could sing something...to help me sleep."_

It took a total of two seconds for a wave of endearment to take over Harry's body. So Louis wasn't afraid to tell people that he had trouble sleeping...but was it really just because he wasn't comfortable? Doubtful.

"Any requests?"

_"Just...something that's easy to fall asleep to..."_

After a few seconds of deep thought, Harry nodded to himself, humming in ascent into the phone.

_"...thanks again, Harry."_

A smile made its way to Harry's lips, and he nodded again, whispering an, "Any time," before he took a breath, preparing to sing. It was the first song that came to mind, and although it probably wasn't the best choice of song for having a peaceful sleep, it would have to do. He remembered a close friend writing the song, and he was just in love with it. It was a few years old, and he knew that it had been three or four years since he's sang it last, but...well, it really was just the first song that came to mind.

His voice was soft, quiet in order to not wake up his friend.

" _Circles, we're going in circles. Dizzy's all it makes us. We know where it takes us, we've been before._

 _Closer, maybe looking closer, there's more to discover- find out what went wrong without blaming each other._ "

Really, it was an old song, but he heard a satisfied sigh come from the other end of the phone, so he knew that Louis was fine with the choice. Or maybe he was just content with the sound of Harry's voice- deep and intoxicating. That added with the mellow of the song, and the small raspy-ness that settled into his voice due to his tired state...well, he really did sound fantastic.

" _Think that we got more time when we're falling behind. Gotta make up our minds...or else we'll play, play, play all the same old games. And we wait, wait, wait for the end to change. And we take, take, take it for granted that we'll be the same, but we're making all the same mistakes._ "

And although it may not seem like it, Harry could only pretend to relate to the song. He never had a girlfriend or boyfriend that had ended only for them to renew it, and end it again. When he broke up with someone (or when someone broke up with him), they wouldn't get back together. It just wasn't the thing he did. He never felt compelled to take a second chance with someone. He never wanted to pretend that a broken relationship would turn out differently. He knew that it'd all end the same way.

" _Wake up. We both need to wake up. Maybe if we face up to this, we can make it through this._

_Closer, maybe we'll be closer. Stronger than we were before, yeah. Make this something more, yeah._

_Think that we got more time when we're falling behind. Gotta make up my mind...or else we'll play, play, play all the same old games. And we wait, wait, wait for the end to change. And we take, take, take it for granted that we'll be the same, but we're making all the same mistakes._

_Yeah, yeah, that's what crazy is...when it's broken, you say there's nothing to fix. And you pray, pray, pray that everything will be okay while you're making all the same mistakes..._ "

Harry had closed his eyes now, leaning back into his pillows and relaxing his muscles. As sad of a song as it may be, he still found it very relaxing. Especially when he sang it a cappella. Stripped down, this song really was quite beautiful. While usually, it'd be sung with a few instruments and a splash of technological changes here and there. But when it was just voice, and Harry's voice at that...it sounded amazing.

_"Don't look back...but if we don't look back, we're only learning then how to make the same, same mistakes again...So we play, play, play all the same old games, and we wait, wait, wait for the end to change. And we take, take, take it for granted that we'll be the same, but we're making all the same mistakes._

_Yeah, yeah, that's what crazy is...when it's broken, you say there's nothing to fix. And you pray, pray, pray that everything will be okay while you're making all the same mistakes..."_

As Harry finished the song, his breath slowed down, and his eyelids began to feel heavy. He didn't hear anything coming from Louis, so he assumed that he had fallen asleep somewhere in the song. The thought alone made a smile come to the boy's lips, and he was just happy to have been able to lure the other to sleep.

It had been a long night, and even though Harry had some thoughts about things that could have ended differently, he was glad that things turned out the way it did. With things like this, Harry would be able to actually talk to Louis and become closer to him. They could become friends, maybe...and thinking back on it, he wondered how that worked. He wanted to become friends with the person he had a one night stand with, while he was already close to that person's roommate. And somehow, while wanting to become the boy's friend, he had become fascinated by him and his eyes...

Oh, right.

His eyes.

And before Harry could even start his train of thought on those breathtaking eyes, he had fallen into a state of unconsciousness. His phone was still on the line with Louis, resting by his side, secured in his hand. From both ends, there were soft huffs of breath, and both the boys were obviously asleep.

On the side of the insomniac, there were sweet dreams that were all too brief, in his own opinion, but that thought was so easily swept away by the beautiful sound of the most soothing voice he had ever heard. 

On the other side, the young boy with a unjustified crush on aforementioned insomniac. He had dreams of blue- the ocean, he had always admired the soft waves and the deadly crashes of tides, just loving the concept of something so beautiful being so deadly and so peaceful; the sky, which he had looked up to, spotting the few white clouds that could only be described as fluffy; his eyes, and perhaps, those pair of piercing blue orbs must have been the most beautiful thing that was in his dream. He could only sit, watching that comforting blue from everywhere he could. His dream was a paradise, really. All he had wanted for the past few days had been to explore everything blue in that boy's eyes, and in this dream, he could.

Really, though, his real paradise would begin after waking up in a few hours, after heading to work. He would be able to see those eyes in person, so close that he may even be able to pick out every emotion that he could see- like the first night that they had spent together...Not even a week of knowing the boy, and Harry was already itching to talk to him again, get to know him, figure him out and unravel him and all of his secrets.

Only one week of knowing him, and Harry was already set on being able to see passed this boy's facade, and straight into his eyes, into the clear blue of the windows to his soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it wasn't as good as you would've liked! I was half asleep while writing it! New chapters will come regularly, so please come back to read more!


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